


Sweet Friendship

by Daegaer



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Anthropomorphic Personifications, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, International Relations, slumber party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-23
Updated: 2010-02-23
Packaged: 2017-10-07 12:10:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/pseuds/Daegaer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poland and Lithuania have an evening to themselves before an important day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Friendship

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Lithuania/Poland Secret Santa Exchange, for the prompt: _ A slumber party type situation _. Poland and Lithuania joined the EU on the same day, 1st May 2004 (along with several other Eastern European nations, and two Mediterranean ones).

"You have to let me do something with your hair!" Poland stamped his foot. It wasn't as effective a tactic as he might have liked, as he was currently wearing purple furry slippers with the word "Princess" embroidered on them in sparkly silver thread.

Lithuania fended him off, laughing. "No way! We can't go to our first EU meeting with ringlets or highlights or whatever else you've seen in a magazine!"

Poland sat back down on the bed and brushed down his fuzzy pyjamas. "We so _could_, Liet. We'd be noticed at least. Don't you, like, _want_ to be noticed?" He inched closer, the heated hair rollers held behind his back.

"I – want to be noticed," Lithuania admitted. It would be nice, he thought, for the other EU people to look at him and see _him_, not Russia's secretary, not – he grimaced – a former Soviet republic. He'd worked hard, making sure his economy and government were stable enough to join, and he didn't want all that effort just to peter out and be wasted.

"Well, then," Poland said. "You and me, and your brothers, and Hungary and Slovakia and Slovenia and Czech _and_ Malta and Cyprus are just totally going to look like a bunch of newbies tomorrow, all huddled together for safety, peeping at the big boys. Let's at least look fabulous!" He grinned, and produced the hair rollers.

Lithuania rolled his eyes, and shifted closer. "All right. But if I do my hair the usual way tomorrow, you're not to sulk."

"I promise! OK, bend down a bit –"

Lithuania obeyed. Poland was nervous, he knew, and doing silly things like demanding a slumber party helped keep his mind away from worry and stress. He'd repainted his house freshly every time the EU nations had called round on official business, and had insisted on helping Lithuania do the same. It was kind, and Lithuania appreciated the help Poland had given him – still gave him – but it was such a relief they'd both had their membership applications approved, and could now maybe do something on the weekends other than redecorate. He patiently bore with the hair-pulling and the heat till Poland was done.

"Do you want a snack?" he said, patting at the rollers in a way that he knew would make Poland laugh.

"Yeah! Something nice!"

Lithuania grinned; Poland had said that for hundreds of years, as if he was worried about getting something unpleasant. "OK. You put the brushes and hairspray away, and I won't be long." He escaped from the bedroom and ran barefoot down the stairs to the kitchen to put a pot of milk on the stove, and to fill the kettle with water. While they were both heating he looked out the coffee and chocolate and arranged the cupcakes he'd brought with him on a plate. The icing was very pink, and several of them had edible glitter sparkling on them, like sunlight on snow. On very _pink_ snow. He turned to catch the milk before it boiled over, and set it aside for a moment while he made the coffee. Then he spooned heaping teaspoons of chocolate powder into Poland's largest mugs, poured the milk in and finished it with the strong coffee. A quick scatter of the tiny marshmallows Poland loved and – even if it probably wasn't going to be as good as the stuff Austria had served them once – they had mocha.

"Oh my God, those cakes look totally delish!" Poland said when he carried the tray in. "How come I didn't see them earlier?"

"Because I hid them earlier," Lithuania said, putting the tray on the bed and straightening his pyjama jacket before climbing back up to join Poland. "Because you'd have eaten them the moment you saw them."

"You're so mean, Liet," Poland said peaceably, and picked up the pinkest, sparkliest cake of all. He scooped up a fingerful of icing and sucked it with a blissful expression. "Mmmm! I forgive you for being mean."

Lithuania grinned and concentrated on another of the cakes. Not bad at all, he thought. Perfect for making Poland happy. They ate two cakes each in companionable silence broken only by the slurping noise Poland always made when dealing with hot drinks, then Lithuania sat back in a sugar-induced daze while Poland jittered around looking for something to do. After an ineffectual attempt at getting a pillow fight going, he reached for something hidden behind his back, and produced a little bottle of nail varnish of exactly the same shade of pink as the cakes' icing.

"Look, Liet! I got this today! Isn't it great?"

"It certainly is," Lithuania said, visions of Poland attending the meeting in one of his more flamboyant outfits scampering through his mind. "Tell you what," he said cunningly, "why don't you try it out on me?"

"Really?" Poland said, his eyes wide. "Quick, give me your hand before you, like, change your mind!"

"Do my toenails," Lithuania said, propping a foot on Poland's knee, "and then I can do yours." Poland looked like it was his birthday, he thought fondly. "But we should leave it at that, it'll be our secret for tomorrow. They'll all think we're sensible, forward looking nations, and we'll know we're pretty as well."

Poland gave him a hard look. "You're making fun of me." He stroked a hand along the top of Lithuania's foot, around the ankle and back down the underside. "You're right though; they'd totally think we were silly if we showed up looking too good. I'm not, like, an _idiot_, Liet."

"Oh, _no_," Lithuania said. "No, you're not. I'm sorry." He really was sorry, he thought. He hated hurting anyone's feelings, let alone _Poland's_. He tried to pull his foot back, but Poland's hand came down on his ankle with a death grip.

"Don't you want me to do your nails?" Poland said.

Lithuania relaxed, and smiled. "Yeah," he said. "I do." He watched Poland lean over his foot, combating his sugar rush to paint the nails with careful little strokes of the brush. When prompted, he put the other foot in Poland's lap, and watched those toenails turn bright pink too. It didn't look as odd as he'd feared. Poland screwed the cap on the nail varnish and passed it over, swinging a leg round to plant his foot squarely in Lithuania's lap.

"Make it nice and even, Liet!"

Lithuania took his time, drawing the brush smoothly up each nail, blowing on them to make Poland squirm. "Careful," Lithuania said with an evil grin. "You don't want it to get on the covers, do you?" He took advantage of Poland's attempts to keep still by blowing on his toes again. When he'd finished both sets of nails he did his best to give a foot rub, without smudging his handiwork. Poland sighed in pleasure and wiggled his toes.

"That's real nice, Liet. Thank you – and thank you for the cakes."

Lithuania smiled at him. "Thank _you_ for inviting me over – it's a relief to think we can leave together for the meeting. I was a bit nervous about walking in by myself."

Poland rolled his eyes as if he wasn't the one who had attacks of nerves when facing people he didn't know all that well. "Don't you worry," he said, "I'll totally make sure you're all right. You just stay by me and we'll both be fine." He leant over and plucked a little palette off the bedside table. "You don't have to wear this tomorrow, but right now, let's see how you look with eye shadow and lip gloss!"

Lithuania pursed his lips, then laughed. "OK. Do your worst." It was the wrong thing to say if he wanted to come out of the evening with any of his dignity intact, he thought, but then he and Poland had never had to worry about dignity with each other. It was the right thing to say to make sure they both had plenty of laughter ahead throughout the evening.


End file.
